The Lexapro just didn’t seem to be cutting it anymore. I’m not sure what the hell happened, but…something went awry. Maybe I missed too many doses. I don’t know. All I know is, I wasn’t feeling I-don’t-give-a-shit about stuff that I don’t want to give a shit about, and I just felt lethargic again about the things I DO want to give a shit about. In other words, I had LOST MY MOJO.

So I told my doctor. Well, I tried to tell my doctor. My doctor’s office allows you to do online consults, which is really cool when you are too fucking lazy to get out of bed and put clothes on have too many other errands to run. So I sent MY doctor a note telling her how I’d been feeling down and depressed and hopeless and worthless, and although it wasn’t quite as bad as it had been BEFORE the Lexapro, it was definitely not a nice place to be. I was LOW…like, sweet CHARIOT low. Fucking AWFUL.

Then ANOTHER doctor writes back, and I’m not too hot on this doctor. Remember I went through this with the kids? Having the one doctor in the practice I didn’t like and having to deal with them ALL THE TIME? Well, the doctor in MY practice that I’m not too fond of got back to me, and she asked me what antidepressants I was on, and recommended therapy, to which I responded that I had tried therapy and found it completely unhelpful since the therapist wanted me to crumple up pieces of paper and throw them at a chair, in which I was supposed to pretend my mother was sitting, while cursing, yelling and crying. Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for roleplay. And I’m all for working through my issues. And I know that my mom is at the root of some of them, but personally, I think it’s my DAD that’s a lot more of the problem. And regardless, I had done ALL THAT SHIT on my OWN, in my OWN house. Who the fuck knew that I was then going to have to pay to do this AGAIN? So I ixnayed her because really, I felt like she was taking me BACKWARDS, not forwards. I mean, I’m 42 fucking years old. I don’t have a lot of time for BACKWARDS.

So Dr. I-Didn’t-Ask-To-See-Her, thank GOD, forwards the whole mess to my regular doc, who immediately does what I hoped for: PRESCRIBES NEW MEDS.

So now I’m on Wellbutrin.

All I know is, this shit better work.

Today is the 3rd day. Seriously, I was hoping to feel high or something; when I started the Lexapro everything felt like it was on a 1-second time delay and I felt like I was WATCHING my life instead of living it, and that was actually pretty fucking awesome. I just felt REMOVED. Eventually that wore off. Now that we’ve added the Wellbutrin, all I feel is…indifferent and energized at the same time, but that’s definitely an improvement. I don’t feel HAPPY like WHEEEEE! But I feel like I can tackle the shit I want to tackle, and fuck the rest.

I haven’t even discussed this with the Tech Guru, so, if you’re reading this, Tech Guru, now you know. Don’t talk to me about it. Don’t ask me about it, and DEFINITELY DO NOT VOICE OR SHOW ANY DISAPPROVAL WHATSOEVER. Just GO WITH IT, for the sake of us all, because I will REALLY get pissed the fuck off if we go through anything remotely like what we went through when I started the Lexapro and you went all frowny face and “I don’t think you should be depending on drugs” on my ass. I really don’t need that right now. Or ever.

Anyhow, we’ll see what happens with my new crazy meds and OMG that just reminds me, I have a new website to share with you guys that is fucking AWESOME. Well, it’s new to ME, anyhow, and I can’t even remember how I came across it. It is not only useful, but freaking HILARIOUS. CrazyMeds is where you can find out all about the shit your doc has you on or might be considering taking for depression, migraines, or, as the owner puts it, “other brain cooties.”

BRAIN COOTIES. THAT IS EFFING PRICELESS. I mean, I am not making fun of this shit…well, not really. Not for other people. If you are depressed or bipolar or suicidal, trust me, I know: it’s serious, and I know that because I LIVE IT. But part of my way of dealing with it is to be VERY OPEN about it, and attack it with humor. If I’m gonna go out, I’m gonna go out laughing. (Hmmmm… that’s actually probably not true, because if I do go out it would mean I got to the point of total fucking despair, at which point, I don’t think I’ll be laughing. But at least YOU will be when you look back on some of the shit I wrote! That counts for something, doesn’t it?)

Anyhow, the CrazyMeds site tells you lots of the stuff your doctor will tell you and some of the stuff they won’t…you know, all the crap that’s on those little sheets of paper that unfold to the size of the New York Times that come in the medication boxes and tell you all the side effects. But who the fuck reads that stuff? If you do read it, you read it AFTER you’ve taken it, by which point it’s a little too late to discover that one of the side effects of the medication you just took is incontinence or flatulence or that old favorite, liver and kidney failure. This site tells you all that information upfront, and the parts about the sexual side effects too, which is awesome.

In my reading there, I discovered that among the potential side effects of the Wellbutrin are anxiety and agitation. Jesus H. Christ, I need THAT like I need a broom up my ass. So if THAT starts to happen, we will have to stop. I do actually HAVE anti-anxiety meds (good old Klonopin) but it’s not supposed to be taken every day and it makes me sleepy as hell. That’s supposed to be for emergencies.

Another side effect of the Wellbutrin: insomnia. Which also happened with the Lexapro. It would make me sleepy as hell but then I’d go to bed and lie there counting the flowers on the bedsheet or some shit. I’ve decided that if I get insomnia again, fuck it, I will USE THAT TIME AND WRITE.

And another supposed side effect of Wellbutrin is horniness, which, if you’re still reading this far, TECH GURU, might make you frown a TAD less about me being on it. Keep your fingers crossed.

So there you have it. Wellbutrin, welcome to the fold. Lexapro, you might have to go, we’ll see. I have to make an appointment to actually SEE the doctor. Hopefully there won’t be any repeats of the last visit, in which some OTHER crazy person stormed into the office demanding his medication and yelling “Psycho is in the house.” And this is not even a psychiatrist office, mind you, it’s a FAMILY PRACTICE. When I get to that point, people, I will sign myself into a facility for, as they say, FURTHER EVALUATION.